Way To Blue
by redraisin
Summary: Palex drama set post season six. Paige and Alex and their not so harmonious life together. Ups, downs and merrygorounds guaranteed .
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: Okay, so I really didn't mean to start writing this, or any fic at the moment, but it sort of just happened. Historically not the best excuse, I know. This fic is set after season six, and though it starts with Palex, who knows where it ends up. Having said that, I'm not even sure if I should continue with it. I'm trying something a teensy bit different from my usual stuff, shorter chapters, maybe messing around with POVs, maybe more episodic. Review and tell me if you like it, or if you don't for that matter, it's all useful. Way To Blue is taken from the title of a Nick Drake album, but you probably own it already.**

"Look, I just need to tell them, okay? It's not a big deal."

"But why?"

"Because…"

"Ooh there's a reason," she muttered, shaking her head and turning away.

"Alex-" she let out a sigh, weary yet wary, careful not to push the conversation into negotiation territory. This simply was not up for debate.

Alex knew this, recognized the cautious, measured edge to her girlfriend's voice. She would bend but not break.

And Alex also knew that her own stubbornness, her own stupid pride would not let her acquiesce in the face of reason.

"I'm doing this for us…" Paige offered, her tone softening, her fingers finding Alex's shoulder, she could feel the tension prickling under hot skin.

Alex let out a snort, swallowed hard, tensed her jaw. _Why am I fighting this? Fighting her?_

The touch revived some of her resolve.

"But, c'mon they already know… it's not like they weren't there last year."

"Yeah," Paige agreed, edging closer, brushing Alex's hair from off her face, willing the girl to look at her. "But this is different."

This was real. This meant something more than just dinner dates and movies and stolen kisses between classes and midnight groping before hurried goodnights. They were more than just going steady, high school sweethearts, girls gone wild, girls experimenting, girls waiting to be straightened out…

_Paige Michelchuck's a dyke? But she's a cheerleader._  
_Yeah, but Alex __Nuñez__ like, butched her out. They've totally set sail to Sappho land._

_It's Lesbos, you dumb fucks._

She'd heard the bitchy putdowns whispered in Degrassi's halls. She'd dealt with the raised eyebrows from teachers, catcalls from guys, exhaustive late-night phonecalls with Hazel and Marco, repulsed and delighted, impressed and in shock. She could handle it then. And she could handle this now.

Her parents would not stand in her way, if life with Alex made her happy. She had a deep underlying belief in that.

What she hadn't factored into the equation was her girlfriend's utter reluctance to stand up and be counted.

"Alex, it's just one of those talks you need to have, y'know? Like the big, this-is-what-I-want-to-do-with-my-life talk?"

Alex didn't know. Alex had never had that kind of talk. With anyone. She didn't need permission, or confirmation, or any of that. Possibly because life had never been about setting goals and achieving dreams. Life had been about paying rent on time and getting high, life had been about watching her back and getting them before they got you.

"They'll be okay about us," Paige pressed on with her assurances. "It's just to let them know that we're a couple now, like officially. That I plan on having you in my future…"

"Couldn't we just send them a joint Christmas card," Alex muttered.

Paige rolled her eyes at this, suppressing the mother of all sighs.

"Or Hanukah, whatever…"

"Alex," the edge had returned, the edge that refused to be pushed any further.

An abrupt silence broke out between them, perching precariously on the brink of an argument. It could go either way, but they both knew Paige's mind was made up.

"I just want to explain things to my mother, Alex. She'll want to understand."

The explanation seemed so reasonable that it just fuelled Alex's annoyance further. She was in a bad mood, she was being irrational and she knew it. It had all started with the B- she'd gotten on her latest paper. She'd worked her ass of for that and it hadn't been worth it.

And when she'd gotten home, he was there. As if it wasn't bad enough to have Jesse's offensively bland face to contend with on a regular basis, not to mention his stupid chipper remarks, here was the Furby setting up a sweatshop in their living room.

And Paige was just consumed with numbers and marketing ideas and fits of giggles, she hadn't even noticed at first. Hadn't even followed her echoing footfalls as they purposefully stomped up the creaking staircase, hadn't even rushed to tend to her bruised ego, hadn't even bothered to comment on the slammed door that so grated her senses.

And though the unwanted guests had eventually cleared, and she had finally thought to check on her girlfriend's fretful outburst, had there been sympathy? Had there been mild curiosity? Had there been the there there's, or the cup of coffee that Alex was so desperately craving, or the apology for having _him_ over for the fourth night in a row?

No, there had not. She had just launched into it, right there, ignoring Alex's torn up paper on the floor, her bristling shoulders and her earlier tantrum.

"Hun, I've been thinking. I think it's time we had a little chat with my parents…"

And Alex was in no mood for listening right now. Let alone talking. Let alone talking with Paige's parents.

A sudden vision popped into her head of Paige's father, picture book posed behind her seated mother, asking Alex, "Just what are your intentions for my daughter?"

It was absurd. But it was an absurd nightmare that had her tasting bile in the back of her throat.

"Well, fine. If you want to sit down and announce to your parents that we're fucking nightly then be my guest. But just don't expect me to be there when you do."

It was childish and instantly regrettable. But it was the only way to end this stupid conversation.

"Y'know Alex, sometimes you can be such an ass!" Paige's voice trembled with anger.

"This isn't about anybody _fucking_," she practically spat out the word, "this is about _you_ and _me _as a couple. And you don't _have_ to be there, but it would have been nice for my girlfriend to support me when I explained to my parents how much I fucking _loved_ her!"

With each emphasis, Paige's volume had ratcheted up another notch. Alex looked on the verge of saying something, something conciliatory maybe, but Paige couldn't stick around to hear it.

She only won the arguments when Alex didn't see her tears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The combination of hot steam and gushing water was always the perfect way to revive her spirits on early mornings like this one.

People always moaned about mornings, the eternal teenage complaint, but Paige thought they were the best time of the day, that secretive, precious time to savour. The time to prepare and compose and indulge yourself before anyone had a chance to really impact on your reality.

Early mornings were definitely me time, she thought blissfully, engulfed by the cascade of water spewing forth from the showerhead.

She soaped away at her arms, her neck, further down her body, hands greedily gliding across her own stomach, devouring every inch of skin, instantly placating the strains of a rigid night's sleep.

We really need a better mattress, she thought idly, not for the first time.

The water started to spurt and splutter, coming out in gurgled gasps as she eyed the showerhead suspiciously.

We really need to get this shower looked at, she mentally noted again, with an internal sigh.

She thumped the head twice, sometimes this worked, sometimes it signalled the end of hot water for the day.

There was a pregnant pause during which all activity appeared to cease. Her skin started to goose-pimple as the cold air seeped in. She shot an icy glare back at the shower, which had the good grace to submit and resume business as usual.

Alex tried the door. It was locked, as she knew it would be. But the lock was just one of those old sliding ones, with a bolt that barely made it to its catch on the other side. Evidently the door had substantially moved over the years. She did what they all did in these situations, using sheer force of will to lift the door up slightly and throw her weight against it.

Marco interrupted her as she did. "Hey is Paige still in there?" he asked, visibly irritated, "Paige, c'mon, it's been over twenty minutes!"

"Don't worry, I'll hurry her up for you," Alex offered him a sly smile, slipping in amidst his protests and fastening the redundant lock behind her.

Alex was not an early morning person. Alex was a sleep-in late, heavily-caffeinate-yourself -into-consciousness kind of a person. But the combination of caring about her studies and living with Paige had brought her around slightly. Sometimes, early mornings had their benefits.

She climbed into the shower wordlessly behind her girlfriend, whose arms were raised to her scalp, lathering some of that expensive shampoo into her hair.

Alex liked Paige's shampoo, it made her hair glisten and smell of coconut.

She embraced her from behind, the perfect opportunity while her hands were occupied, and started dripping kisses down her neck.

Paige had, of course, registered her arrival, but was undecided on how mad she was still feeling. But early morning kisses in the shower were usually a sign of reconciliatory behaviour to come.

"Good morning to you too," she tipped her head back over her shoulder prompting a watery kiss.

She continued to lather her hair up while Alex tried to kiss away their argument, down her shoulderblades, hands consuming every inch of her soft belly. Her fingers found that ticklish spot just below Paige's abdomen, prompting her girlfriend to brush her hand away.

"Alex, I have to open up in like, fifteen minutes."

She resumed washing her hair, rinsing the soapy goodness from her dripping tresses. Alex pretended to help with the ritual.

She reached over Paige's shoulder, towards the soaptray on the wall, bringing her lips to her girlfiend's ear as she did so.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tentative and vulnerable, yet distinctive enough above the rushing water.

"You shouldn't be scared of them," Paige responded matter-of-factly, always able to cut through the bullshit when required, always able to read Alex's emotions when push came to shove.

"I'm not-" Alex interrupted, thinking about it for the first time as she distractedly started to wash her own body. "I was just, I was just pissed off about school and… Look, I'll come with you, it's cool…"

She took Paige's arms and turned her around, their bodies pressed together in the small confines of the shower.

"No, I'll take this one on my own. It'll be better, y'know, when my mum starts up with the inevitable waterworks."

Alex offered a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder by way of a response. Paige was playing at being the voice of reason and congeniality, which just served to underlie her guilty conscience.

"I'm sorry," she said again, this time afforded the opportunity to meet with flashing green eyes.

"I know."

Hands wrapped around waists, heads bowed together, bonded like in reverent union, they could have been praying.

"I love you…"

"I know this too," cheeky grins broke the reverie.

"So I guess I don't need to say it anymore?"

"Mmm…Just one more time."

"PAIGE! Come on!" furious pounding shattered the moment completely as Paige turned in Alex's arms to finish her ablutions.

Marco was a good friend. He was loyal and considerate and always there to lend an eager ear. He liked living with girls because they had so much gossip.

But girls in love were a different species entirely. They were extra needy, extra-self-absorbed and extra-long in their bathroom formalities.

But like a pussy-whipped office junior he stood at the bathroom door, towel in hand, patience frayed, waiting for his turn, waiting for someone to see all his wonderful noble qualities and take pity on him.

The door opened and the giggling duo emerged from a misty haze of steam. "There better be some hot water left," he called out despondently.

Alex tapped him on the head as she breezed on past, "Chill Del Rossi."

It was a split-second of distraction that gave Ellie the chance to sneak on past with her make-up bag in hand.

"No Ellie, I've been waiting here-"

"Marco, five minutes, I swear. The light's awful in my room, I need the mirror."

"Two minutes," he tried bargaining in vain.

"Okay , whatever," she happily brushed him aside. The door closed once more.

Marco's heart sank at the sound of the clicking lock.

oooOOOooo

Paige finished buttering the toast, always just the right-side of burnt, regardless of what setting you turned the dial to.

She looked up apologetically as Marco traipsed in, still in his pyjamas, with his towel hanging limply over his shoulder, resigned to his fate.

"Sorry hun, won't happen again," she hurriedly repacked the fridge.

"Yeah, 'til tomorrow," he muttered.

Paige chose to ignore her friend's dismal morning mood and, not moving from the kitchen, she raised her voice to boom, "Alex, if you want a ride, I'm leaving right now!"

Marco slumped himself down at the kitchen table and heaved out a sigh, "I take it things are okay now."

"Hm?" Paige distractedly started to rifle through her bag, checking and rechecking. She was a little obsessive-compulsive at times, but no one was actually allowed to mention this.

"Yeah, it's fine, hun, thanks…"

"That got sorted out quickly," Marco persisted, with the residue of bitterness still lingering from the shower incident.

"Huh, what?" By now the blonde was operating at a hundred miles a minute, hands flailing, sandwiches being neatly cut, always diagonally, he noted absently. That was for Alex.

"Just… y'know, considering you were crying your eyes out to me last night, and this morning it's all hunky-dory."

"Marco, it wasn't like that," she offered, looking up to give him a full heartbeat of her attention.

"Sure seemed that way…"

"Yeah, but… Alex is just under a lot of pressure with school right now. Y'know, she's gotta get the grades this time. Plus, with things the way they are with her own mother…"

Marco shrugged, abandoning the conversation. He reached across to the bowl on the table and started fiddled with one of the packets of sugar they had swiped from the Dot.

"ALEX!" Paige let rip again, "I'm leaving this very second!"

Hurried footsteps thundered down the staircase to a chorus of, "I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm right here!"

Paige, always one to time everything to perfection, had her girlfriend's jacket ready and waiting the second she appeared.

Alex wordlessly accepted it, rushing over to grab a slice of toast before her exit. Ellie was hot on her heels.

"Oh great, so bathroom's free now?" Marco concluded, halfway between sarcasm and hope.

"Er- yeah, I think maybe Jesse kinda slipped in there."

"Ellie!"

Ellie focused intently on pouring herself a glass of orange juice while Alex looked on and laughed.

"Alex, _now_ please hun," Paige prompted, as her girlfriend stuffed the specially prepared piece of toast into her mouth.

"And don't forget you're lunch," she pointed helpfully to the brown bag on the counter-top.

Ellie used all her powers of control not to spit her juice out upon hearing this. "Aaw, she makes you lunch. That's so _cute_, Alex."

Alex, restricted by the toast between her teeth, simply grabbed the bag and flipped off her friend in one smooth motion.

Ellie knew the word cute was like Alex kryptonite. Or maybe Paige was Alex kryptonite and cute was just the fallout.

Ellie responded to the finger with a whipping gesture as the two made their hasty exit.

The darker haired girl managed to remove her toast just long enough to utter a "Watch your back Nash!" warning that sounded neither threatening or sincere as Paige hustled her out the door.

Marco heaved out a sigh as the morning whirlwind started to die down, but was interrupted by yet another kitchen visitor, the ever-present Jesse, Ellie's shower-friendly boyfriend.

He sauntered into the kitchen, his hair matted from towel drying, his lazy grin oblivious to Marco's general disdain.

He plopped himself down next to Ellie and started to messily peel an orange in between sharing sloppy kisses with the redhead.

Marco desperately tried to think of something to say to interrupt the feeding frenzy, gave up and rose from the table. "Well, looks like I'll have that shower now," he said, addressing the air in the room.

"Oh, yeah, I don't think there's any hot water left," Jesse offered, with only the briefest of eye-contact, "Sorry man." He turned back to his girlfriend, playfully popping a segment of the orange into her eager mouth.

Marco wondered why he ever thought living with three girls was a great idea.


	3. Chapter 3

Paige looked up at the rain clouds looming overhead, faintly amused by the clichéd skyline given her current situation.

She'd been parked in the driveway of her former family home for a good five minutes and her procrastination was starting to cross over into overly circumspect territory.

Her breathing was in danger of become laboured, she could feel the twinge in her chest as the familiar roots of a panic attack started tentatively gnawing beneath her muscles.

_Calm. Calm. Breathe. Think of something else. What are we having for dinner tonight?_

By now, she was well versed in how to spot the warning signs, and she was determined that this moment would not fall victim to her tenuous grasp over her own nerves.

_I am going to do this. I am. I am going… It's only my mother… My god, it's my mother! Shit!- No, shut-up…_

Paige literally shook her head free of the whirring anxiety that was desperately trying to take hold. She consciously took note of everything she did, narrated in her head every miniscule action so as to calm her down.

_Take the key out of the ignition. Open the door, Wait…Your bag, and the book, that's right… here we go up the steps, when are they going to put that hideous doorstop out of its misery?_

She had a key, but somehow the formality of the situation dictated she should ring the bell.

Her mother soon appeared, evidently having just ended a phone call, the receiver still in her hand. "Hello sweetheart, you'll never guess who just called, remember Rebecca Lang, our old neighbour?"

"Er- vaguely," Paige crossed the threshold with something approaching relief at her mother's familiar pre-occupation.

Maybe I can just slip it in while she's rambling on… 

"Well anyway, she phoned up to tell me her son is coming back to study at Toronto U next fall. Remember Ryan? Such a nice boy…"

Paige all but rolled her eyes at this, as she trailed her mother into the kitchen.

"So," her mother paused mid-diatribe, giving her daughter an expectant look.

"Oh," Paige took this as her cue to explain her sudden visit. She'd planned her strategy the night before, meticulously examining every possible way into the conversation.

She knew she would have to make sure her mother would actually be in, given her breakneck pace of life, which meant phoning ahead of time, which also meant finding an excuse to go round.

"Here, I thought it was finally time I returned this," Paige presented the recipe book into her mother's waiting hands. The book had been her banker, her way in.

"Oh Paige, I'd nearly forgotten I owned this one, you've had it for so long," her mother replied, carefully fingering the peeling spine.

"Yeah sorry, but… never fear, I just needed a couple years to memorise it. I'm now the A to Z girl of cuisine, from avocado to… Zabaglione. What? It's a food. It's an Italian desert."

Her mother gave her one of those faint smiles that hovered between mournful resignation that her daughter's sanity had catapulted off into another dimension and the "yes dear" look usually reserved for husbands when they valiantly tried to masquerade their own lack of meaning with a certainty of tone that nobody was buying.

"Here Paige, why don't you just keep it," her mother offered, attempting to give back the weighty tome.

"What? Oh no, mum, I-I couldn't," Paige replied more emphatically then she needed to, the prospect of her gameplan being blown into smithereens in its infant stages causing unmitigated panic.

The odd behaviour was not entirely lost on her mother, who had naturally become accustomed to her daughter's ways having had to cope with them for pretty much her whole life.

"Well, would you like some tea then?"

Paige thought at the moment that she needed something a bit stronger than tea. Like maybe a double shot of espresso, or a gallon of brandy or a raging crack habit that made everything else pale into insignificance.

"Tea would be great."

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure?" her mother chirped brightly, as she set about busying herself with the milk and kettle.

Paige's heart gave a full-on nosedive as she realised the casual recipe book returning had really sunk without trace.

_You're just gonna have to out with it Michalchuk…So to speak…_

But too late, her mother had recommenced her interminable yapping, returning to her earlier phone conversation.

Paige tuned in somewhere around… "And of course she thought maybe you'd be going there now, since you're back here. And I don't know your plans one way or the other, so I said maybe, we'd see, but I was sure you'd be more than happy to show him around. You remember Ryan, don't you darling?"

"Hmm..What? Er, kind of. He didn't go to Degrassi did he?"

"No, that's right, he went to Lubavitch, that orthodox boys school. Very impressive grades there y'know…"

Paige tried desperately to focus on a new strategy over the din of her mother's ramblings, but the incessant tirade was stretching her concentration abilities to their maximum.

Her mother set her cup down in front of her at the kitchen table, still intent on harassing her with tales of their former neighbours.

"So, shall I pass on your number?"

Like a moth to a flame, the mention of sharing the sanctity of a girl's cellphone number instantly drew Paige right back into the conversation.

"My number? What? No! I mean… Why do you want to give my number to some guy I hardly even remember from when we were kids?"

Her mother shot her another one of those maternal specialities, the wounded martyr, the humble victim.

"I just thought, as he doesn't really know anyone here anymore, and Rebecca was always a good friend to me, you might like to do, whatever it is you kids do. 'Hang out' I guess. His mother says he's grown into a very fine-looking young man y'know…

"His mother. That's objective…"

"And she also said he's siii-nngle…" her mother practically sang the word, in place of winking no doubt.

Paige mustered every facet of facial control not to roll her eyes, or snort, or laugh. Or leave.

Here was the cue, standing up and begging for acknowledgement.

"Mum, I don't need you to set me up with guys, okay?"

"Now sweetheart, I wasn't trying to…"

"I just mean- I'm not available. Not to this guy. Not to any guy."

"Oh," her mother gave her a measured look, setting her cup down in its hand-painted saucer.

The clock ticked audibly in the corner.

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend?"

"I don't."

Mrs. Michalchuk was an achiever, a go-getter, a force to be reckoned with. She had four languages under her belt by the age of sixteen. She had graduated with the highest honours from Canada's top university. She had a good career and a doting husband who she cooked for every night, regardless of what time he made it through the door.

When her eldest son had told her he was gay she had cried and wrung her hands and confronted her rabbi about where she had gone wrong. But she had never stopped loving him for one second. And after all, she still had Paige. Her perfect little girl, who would undoubtedly be her successor in every way possible.

Mrs. Michalchuk liked to play things by the book, and had struggled to be taken seriously outside the confines of the hallowed halls of Banting. In business, a businesswoman was still just a woman. And she had never managed to soar beyond the glass-ceiling to the dizzying heights she had known she was destined for.

But Mrs. Michalchuk had carried on regardless, nose to the grindstone, beavering away, dotting her i's and crossing her t's until her bones were weary and her heart said no more.

And now, here she was, approaching middle-age with the promise of her brilliant future reduced to the faintest of glows, and it all rested on her only daughter. Her only daughter who had dropped out of the country's premier university to live in a decaying student house and work in a T-shirt shop.

And now the child, her child, was telling her there would be no white wedding, no prince charming, no barbecues with grandchildren running through the sprinkler, no tearful talks through pregnancy, no mother of the bride, no…no…no…

"Mum?"

"Just… Just a moment dear…" her mother's voice sounded unearthly and her complexion had significantly paled in the space of a few seconds.

Paige grew fidgety from the pause, and just to emphasise her point she thought it best to clarify her exact position.

"I'm in love Mum. And it's a good thing, really. But, I don't see a guy… again…" she trailed off briefly, but her mother showed no further signs of reaction.

"I mean, I think that, this is it. It feels like it is. And me and Alex-"

"Alex?" at last a reaction, although given her mother's frown Paige was forced to bite her lip nervously.

"We're back together. For real this time. She's been living with me."

She watched her mother shaking her head from side to side, her mouth twitching between a mournful tremble and angry pursed lips.

"Paige, Paige," she started to mutter quietly, setting her daughter's nerves on edge. Her mother was not a mutterer. A rambler maybe, an interrogator, definitely. But this crazy-person muttering was not her.

"Mum?"

"How do you know?" she shot her a stone-cold look that bore right through her daughter's watery resistance and into her heart.

"I just do. It- it feels right."

"Yes, but you went out with this girl before, didn't you? And it didn't work out. And why was that?"

"Because I was going to Banting and she was staying here, she was trying to figure herself out."

"And that's exactly my point. You already figured yourself out. You knew. You're not a homosexual, Paige.

"Er, I'm not saying I am. And hello? Banting- big disaster? Does any of that sound like a girl who'd already figured herself out?"

"So you're saying it's my fault? Because I wanted you to go there?"

"What?! Mum, no that's not what-" Paige paused to consider her words more carefully as the conversation started to run away from her. Her mother had magnificently managed to turn from shock to anger to guilt-ridden despair in only a few exchanges. Who knew where she'd end up next.

"Maybe I did push you too hard," and here came the inevitable tears, the wounded soldier, pitying yet pitiful, "It was because you were my only daughter. I just _so_ wanted you to live up to your…your potential," sobs, heaving, fat, wet sobs, "You were such an amazing little girl. So beautiful, so quick…"

Paige thought about reminding her mother that she was still beautiful and quick, but decided to let it go.

"I just never… this wasn't what I wanted for you, Paige. This wasn't what we worked so hard for… wasn't what you deserved."

Wasn't what _you_ deserved, you mean, Paige thought bitterly, the frustration rising with every self-deprecating sob that exhumed itself from her mother's chest.

"Mum. I love you. Nothing has changed okay. I'm still the same daughter I was last week, last year… And I'm sorry if you feel I've let you down or… turned out a disappointment…" the tears started shamefully spilling down her own face and she rubbed her eye sockets furiously, daring them to continue.

"I'm sorry, okay, but I love Alex. And that's all there is to it. It's not meant to mean the rest of my life is going to turn out a disaster. And it doesn't mean that yours will either. I just, I just wanted to tell you… 'cos you're my mother and…" Paige audibly cursed her own leaking eyes for betraying her. The plan did not involve ceaseless apologies or pathetic crying. This talk was supposed to have been rational, confident, coming from a place of strength.

But evidently, the only thing to make her mother feel better was the fact that her daughter was clearly feeling worse. "Oh, honey…" She said upon her daughter's dissolving into tears, leaning across the table to wrap her in her arms.

And Paige didn't know why, but something told her she was better off if she kept on crying, cried every last damn tear away right there in her mother's designer kitchen.

Because she had lied before about being the same girl. She knew now that everything had changed.


	4. Chapter 4

**a/n: They may call you Orange, but I call this chapter four and it's all for you because your writing has continued to amaze, entertain, inspire and motivate me in equal parts. You are very very clever.**

**This is a shorter chapter than the last one. Basically I wrote one very long chapter and decided it worked better in two separate parts, so you may get another chapter soon. Or maybe not. We'll see...**

**Chapter Four**

"Paige, I made you some tea," the gentle coaxing was met with the faintest of eyerolls as the blonde resolutely clung to her cheerless demeanour.

"Great… more tea," she murmured, as Alex set the mug down on the nightstand next to where she lay.

Paige continued to languish on the bed, eyes cast downward as the rain rattled against the windowpane.

Alex perched next to her, against the side of the bed and did her best to dissipate her sigh internally. She was trying to be a good girlfriend, supportive, like she had promised she would be over this whole outing-to-parents fiasco.

The truth was, she wasn't surprised at how the scene had played out, depressed of course, no one likes to have their girlfriend greet them with a face full of tears. But from what she knew of the Michalchuk family, and she had come to know them fairly well from the first time she and Paige had dated, the prospect of losing their prized princess permanently to the dark side was not something that would be smoothed over in one sitting.

But that still didn't solve the problem that was lying in front of her at this present time. She ran a sympathetic hand along Paige's thigh. "You just gonna stay here? You don't want to do anything?"

"I am doing something," Paige replied sulkily, "I'm being morose. And it requires a great deal of concentration."

Alex sucked in her lower lip at that, realizing that it was going to take a great deal of further indulgence before Paige would be all sweetness and light for her.

"Okay, and how long are you gonna do that for?"

"Dunno… depends…" came the despondent answer, arms crossed against chest, eyes threatening another deluge.

"Depends on what?" Alex persisted, in an effort to keep drawing her out into conversation.

"'Till hell freezes over, I suppose," Paige let out one of her trademark sighs, "Or my mother comes to terms with the fact I have every right to live my own life, whichever happens first. Personally, I think the odds are looking pretty good on hell these days."

Alex smirked at her girlfriend's irascible tone, unable to resist her charms, even when she was sinking herself into a melancholic funk. She scrambled over Paige's clamped up body so she could lie down next to her, pulling the other girl around as she did, so they were lying face to face.

Paige put up a token resistance, clearly wanting Alex's comfort but feeling the inexplicable need to make it harder for her.

"Paige," Alex spoke her name softly, like foam on a wave, compensating for the roughness of her girlfriend's present attitude.

Whenever she was like this, when they were lying together intimately like this, Paige couldn't help but succumb to her gentleness. It was more than just coaxing or coddling or general pampering, a means to an end. It was a side of Alex reserved for the two of them, a private side than no one else would ever have the full benefit of experiencing and it came from a place of love and deep trust.

So Paige let her mood be pacified by Alex's tender touches, wisping an errant golden curl from out of her eyes, tracing her swollen lips with her fingertip.

"They'll come round," she whispered into the descending darkness.

"When?" Paige huffed out.

"I dunno sweetheart. But they will, you know they will."

"Yeah?" her sombreness gave way to hopefulness as she gazed at her girlfriend for further assurance.

"Yeah. No one can resist your charms for that long."

That got a smile, thought Alex, relieved at some sign of progress.

"I just wish…" Paige paused, knowing that everything she felt went without saying, but compelled to verbalize her thoughts anyway, "I just wish… they just accepted it now, like it wasn't even an issue."

"I know," Alex responded, draping her arm over her girlfriend, seeking out her hip underneath the baggy sweatshirt reserved for slobbing.

"I wish that… y'know, they could see the bigger picture, you and me… how happy we are…"

"I know. They will," Alex continued with the soothing words and tender ministrations and Paige gradually relented, folding into her arms, enveloped by the warmth.

"Your mum accepted you," she said, voice muffled against Alex's shoulder.

Alex let out a ghost of laugh, betraying the bitterness that was still underscoring how she felt in that department. "Yeah, well, it's not like she had much of a choice."

Paige looked up at her quizzically.

"I mean, I'm all she had. It was just like, 'Mum, I'm gay, deal with it. If not, I'm gone.'"

"You really said that to her?"

"Not in so many words," Alex's twitching mouth belied her casual tone and her shoulders briefly tightened in tension before she let the nagging guilt and lingering pain drain out of her. "Besides Paige, my mother's got bigger problems to worry about then if her daughter's a lesbian y'know? And I think she knew she wasn't exactly in a position to criticize who I went out with, given her own dating record…"

Paige murmured in agreement, thoughts drifting to Alex's old home life with Emily and Chad. It had been far from ideal, she had witnessed that much, what with drunken rows and occasional tell-tale bruising.

She inadvertently tightened her grip on Alex's encircling arms, happy that she was here with her now… here… safe…. and just hers.

Alex took this as a positive move forward. She kissed her forehead in return. "You wanna maybe… go get something to eat?"

"Nope," Paige offered forlornly.

"Wanna see what everyone else is up to?"

"Na-uh," came the reply, as she snuggled further into Alex's embrace, head against shoulder, eyes staring into the middle-distance.

The rain continued its relentless pounding unabated. The wind had started to get up as well, whipping the frail trees in the front yard into a frenzy, their branches desperately clawing at the window.

Alex watched the worsening storm with a growing sense of unease. Storms always made her feel fidgety and trapped and in need of distraction.

As she stroked Paige's hair absently another more palpable feeing stirred within her.

"You, er..wanna…" she snaked her hand down from Paige's head, skimming under the sweatshirt, resting on the small of her back, then slowly crawling down to her rear.

Paige's heavy sigh stopped any premature hopes of afternoon sex from going any further.

She lifted her head off Alex's shoulder so she could look into her eyes, so Alex could see how she was feeling.

I'm sorry, I'm just not in the mood, her eyes said.

Get your hands of my ass, Alex read.

She reluctantly raised her hands back to a more PG-friendly area of Paige's body, mind still set on finding an alternative to brooding.

"Wanna watch some TV?"

"Mmfgh."

"Come on," Alex said, trying to sit up, "Let's go downstairs."

" 'Kay…"


	5. Chapter 5

**a/n: This one's kinda stoopid. Enjoy...**

**Chapter Five**

It was much later when Marco, Ellie and Jesse gatecrashed into their evening, as they lay contently entwined on the couch, hypnotized by the TV.

"Hey, hey, we got chips!" Marco began, throwing a bag of tortilla chips at them as he sloshed his way through to the kitchen.

"Great," Alex deadpanned back, manoeuvring her arms around Paige so she could rip into the bag.

"And movies," Ellie chimed, waving some dvd cases in their general direction as she freed her feet from her soggy boots.

"Where'd you park your canoe?" Paige muttered, raising her head from its comfortable Alex cushion to glare at the drenched bodies encroaching on her quiet night in.

"Yeah, I know," Ellie continued with a laugh of acknowledgement, for once not rising to Paige's sarcasm as she continued to liberate herself from her dripping outer garments.

The procession of sodden bodies was rounded out by Jesse's saturated form, as he followed his girlfriend into the living room.

"It's raining up a storm out there," he announced, to no one in particular.

"Really? A storm? _With_ rain?" Alex responded, not missing a beat. For a journalist she always thought Jesse had a particularly obvious way of expressing things. But she also thought she wasn't really in a position to comment on stuff like that, so reserved most of her Jesse-judging for her internal concourse.

Marco re-emerged from the kitchen with an assortment of dips, immaculately presented in the ramekins Paige had inherited from her mother as a moving-in present. The Michalchuks evidently had different priorities when it came to the practicalities of student living.

"Dips for the chips!" he announced, setting them on the coffee table and swiping the bag from out of Alex's foraging fingers.

Paige carried on staring numbly at the television, feigning interest in the mindless gameshow they had somehow ended up watching as she asked half-heartedly, "What movie did you get?"

"One for every season," Jesse began, holding up each box for inspection. "What do we have?… Saw Three…"

"Ugh!"

"Casino Royale…"

"Oooh," went Paige, a hint of brightness flickering across her eyes.

"I wouldn't mind seeing that," agreed Alex.

"Mmph…my choice," Ellie indicated with a mouthful of chips, pointing at herself.

"And…The Queen," Jesse concluded, smacking his lips together to keep from any obvious expression.

The girls fell into a temporary stupor, as the information washed over them.

"Yeah," Jesse affirmed to their questioning eyes.

Confusion evolved into to accusation as heads turned as one, to stare at the strange boy settling himself contently into the armchair in the corner. Eventually he became aware of the collective eyes focused upon him.

"What?" he asked self-consciously.

"You do know it's about the Queen…_of England_?" Alex needled, getting a slap on the ass from Paige and a laugh from the other two.

"Thank you Alex, _I know_," Marco mugged back, by now well acquainted with his housemate's acid tongue.

"So put one of them on," Jesse pointed to Ellie, who was nearest to the dvd player. But Alex held out her arm, snagging her friend's sleeve.

"Wait. The Closer's on in five minutes, I wanna watch that first."

"The Closer?" Ellie twisted back to look at her, surprised that Alex had any partiality towards a television programme, so infrequently did she watch the box.

"It's because of Kyra Sedgwick," Paige offered by way of an explanation.

"Paige! It is not. It's a good show."

"Isn't she kinda old?" Jesse began, unwittingly setting himself up for a lifetime of Alex death stares.

"She ain't old enough to be _your_ mother, that's for sure," Alex shot back.

"And you gave me a hard time for renting the Queen," Marco chuckled into his bag of chips.

"She's not really that old," Paige agreed diplomatically. Provoking her girlfriend was always fun up to a point. A cold abyss of mattress space between them - not so much.

"So you're okay with Alex loving her?" Ellie pressed on, amused by the brief spot of Alex-baiting, usually such a rare occurrence.

"I do not _love_ her! Jesus!" Alex denied, a little too emphatically for anyone to give up the fight. "I just said I thought she was a really good actress."

"Hun, come on, you totally said you thought she was hot," Paige relented, unable to resist taking up the baton.

"Oooh!" the others laughed, pointing to emphasise the total callout Alex had just suffered at the hands of her own girlfriend.

Alex rolled her eyes and bit her cheek to stop from laughing. "I said I thought Detective Brenda Johnson was hot," she clarified, which only exacberated the trio into further fits of giggles.

"Alex!" Ellie exclaimed, "Stop! You're making it worse!"

Alex pretended to pout which prompted a kiss from Paige.

"It's okay hun," Paige reassured her girlfriend, indulging her charade of indignation while addressing the others, "Alex has Kyra and I have Gordon."

The trio shot back looks of confusion as Jesse asked the inevitable, "Who's Gordon?"

"Ramsey," Alex explained, rolling her eyes, prompting an unrestrained chorus of Ew! From both Marco and Ellie.

"What is it with you two and old people?" Ellie broke down again, practically convulsing.

"It's the torso," Paige replied serenely, plopping her head back down against her girlfriend's chest, "It's yummy…"

"It's a chef thing," Alex declared. "Paige sees power in the hand that feeds her." This prompted a contented grin from the girl in her arms. "As do I," Alex added as an afterthought.

Marco barely managed to conceal a knowing grin at this, having the misfortune to share a wall with the two girls and their incessant faux-power struggle. He knew Alex was a badass when she wanted to be. He also knew she was a pussycat under the superior dominance of Paige. But most of it all, he knew that should he ever openly acknowledge this, the consequences weren't worth thinking about. Marco just wanted a quiet life. He tried.

"Yeah, well, I don't get it myself," Ellie murmured, noticing for the first time that she'd managed to chip her scarlet rose nail polish. She frowned at the thought that it might be several hours before she had the satisfaction of reapplying it.

"I mean, he's just some swearing old British guy at the end of the day. In terms of silver foxes he's not exactly…Ed Harris."

"Ooh, I like him!" Marco perked up at the mention of a subject he was interested in.

"Not much in the hair department to technically be classed a silver fox though," Paige pointed out.

"I don't care," Ellie reaffirmed, while inspecting her fingernails for any further offenders, " He could have _Absolute Power_ over me any day."

"Oh really?" said Jesse, draping both arms around his girlfriend and giving her an affectionate squeeze.

"Only in my dreams," she gazed back at him, her mouth oscillating between a cheeky grin and total paradisiacal abandonment.

Alex, always one to unhesitatingly display her own devotion regardless of others discomfort, coughed nervously to break her friend's trance.

Ellie responded by raising her eyebrows at her boyfriend. "Besides, who's your celebrity crush Mr. Cool stuff?" she asked, poking him in the ribs as he tried to play it down.

"I don't think I have one."

"Yeah right."

"No seriously," he persisted, attempting an air of nonchalance. "Famous girls, they just all seem really fake to me."

Alex and Paige shared meaningful glances from their position on the couch.

What a bullshitter, thought Paige.

You went out with this asshole? thought Alex.

"Come on," Ellie would not let it go now. Aware that her boyfriend was a reflection on her and eager to appear as normal as everyone else, she tried prodding him into submission.

"C'mon Jesse, there's gotta be someone."

He shrugged, raising his palms skywards.

"If you _had_ to pick. Okay?"

"Er…" Jesse blew on the hair that was flopping in his eyes, then turned his attention to the ceiling with an expression of deep concentration.

"Mischa Barton," he said at last to audible groans from the room.

"What?"

"Honey, that's way too obvious," Ellie coaxed, desperately trying to redeem her boyfriend under the watchful eyes of the room, quietly judgmental in their smugness.

"You said pick someone."

"Yeah, but like, that's not like we've been doing…"

"What, so there are rules now?"

"Pick again, pick someone older."

Jesse, clearly now embarrassed from the attention this was drawing to himself, not helped by the fact he was dating his current persecutor while another ex was in the room, did his best to trawl the depths of his mind for the correct response.

Alex yawned loudly and checked her watch, while Paige offered an, "Anytime this year hun."

At last he blew his cheeks out with a sigh, raising his hands and letting them fall dramatically, slapping loudly against his thighs.

"Hillary Clinton."

The room instantly fell into a stunned silence. Ellie shot her boyfriend an unconcealed look of horror, shaking her head in disgust.

"No, just, no…" she promptly rose and retreated to the kitchen.

Paige smirked at Ellie's exit while Marco finally chomped down loudly on the chip that had paused midway to his mouth.

Alex buried her face against Paige's shoulder, desperately trying to smother the volcano of laughter that was threatening to erupt from within.

Jesse turned towards the peanut gallery, perplexity evident in every crinkle of his forehead.

"I don't get it, what did…"

"Sh!" Alex hushed him with a wave of her hand, "Closer's starting…"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Alex wearily twisted the key in the lock, jiggling it as she did so, the knack that had taken so long to master in order to force the front door open.

She sighed with something approaching relief to finally be home, sensing she had the house to herself from its uncharacteristically quiet demeanour.

She trundled into the kitchen in search of liquid refreshment, dumping her bag on one of the chairs and opening the fridge.

A desolate rack of shelves stared back at her. There was a pint of milk flirting with the right side of its best before date. A lump of cheese festered in the corner, intent on founding its own eco-system. There was no Alex-friendly pick-up-and-eat food.

"Perfect," she muttered aloud, letting the door swing shut with a protesting squeal.

"You know what they say about talking to yourself."

"Sshhiiiit, Ellie," Alex quickly reigned in her surprise, "Don't do that."

Ellie smirked, plunking herself down on a vacant kitchen chair while Alex hoisted herself onto the kitchen counter-top.

"What are you doing home so early?"

"I have an essay to write. Thought, y'know, I could make a start on it here, with the house so empty."

"Right," Alex nodded.

"You?"

"Crappy day. Extra crappy."

"Mm," Ellie offered in agreement.

Neither girl showed any inclination towards moving, content to just sit and let the minutes seep over them both.

"Where's your wife?" Alex said at last, referring to the ever-present Jesse, her lips twitching into a sly smile.

"Alex, we're not joined at the hip y'know," Ellie replied, pulling a face as they resorted to their usual mock needling of each other. "Besides, where's yours?"

"She's working late tonight. Stocktaking or something," Alex began to inspect the contents of a bowl next to her, certain that it had once harboured something resembling fruit.

"Stocktaking. That's original."

"Shut-up," Alex said, lobbing a peach in Ellie's direction.

"Ew!" The redhead rocketed out of her chair at the sight of the decaying fruit that had been discarded her way. "That is seriously a health hazard."

Alex slipped down from the counter-top, immediately thinking to clean-up the mouldy explosion on the table. If Paige had been there she would have had to, no questions asked.

But Paige wasn't here. Paige was working late. And though she knew with every ounce in her being that her girlfriend was genuine in her reasons, Ellie's comment had evidently sparked that twinge of jealousy she swallowed down whenever she thought of Paige and Spinner in close quarters together.

In a tiny act of defiance, Alex rooted herself to the spot, leaving Ellie lingering halfway between the table and the sink, debating whether she should be the one to clean up the pulpy mess.

They drifted off the passing minutes together, united by the realization that neither had the impetus to actually attend to the more scholarly pursuits that were demanding their attention. They were just contently killing time.

Ellie stood next to Alex, adopting her posture as she leaned back against the counter, arms folded, legs crossed, head tipped back in quiet contemplation of the ever-growing crack on the ceiling.

The quiet was punctuated only by the hum of the occasional passing street car and faraway shrieking from over-excited children

"Hey," Alex said at last, "I've got a joint in my room."

oooOOOooo

The two girls sat on the concrete steps that led down to the yard behind their house. Rarely did anyone venture onto the actual level surface, put off by the overgrown sprawl that was threatening to claw its way over the fence into next door.

Dylan had involuntarily become the head gardener of the clan, being the only one with the patience and brute strength to get the lawnmover started. Since his departure, the backyard has become a veritable junkyard, with rusted garden furniture left out from a barbecue several months ago, and accompanying trash bags that had been conveniently forgotten behind what was once a garden shed.

The housemates pretended they liked their garden this way. The enormity of restoring it to inhabitable status was too overwhelming for anyone to contemplate for more than five minutes before becoming mentally exhausted.

Marco had drawn up a plan once, with jobs for everyone. But then it had rained and their secret relief had manifested itself into a late-afternoon drinking session that had drowned out any future prospects of green-fingered enthusiasm.

Alex toked heavily on the joint, the sweet hot taste hitting the back of her throat and worming its way into her chest. She exhaled slowly, lazily trying to bring the middle distance into focus.

"This place is such a dump," she muttered, kicking a soda can that was rolling around near her foot.

"Mm," Ellie murmured, taking the joint from Alex's proffering fingers. "We should clean it up."

"Yeah."

They surveyed the carnage before them with quiet detachedness.

"So…" Ellie drawled between puffs, "How's everything going?"

"Yeah, Great. Or good. It's… fine y'know?" Alex crossed her arms over her knees, the sun was ebbing away and the creeping shadows were cooling amidst the last dying rays.

Ellie smiled slightly at her friend, nodding in understanding. She didn't need to say much to Alex to get what she meant. They knew each other well enough.

"How's Paige's parents doing? You calling them Mum and Dad yet?"

"Funny," Alex barely quirked an eyebrow. Ellie scoffed. "But… they've invited us around for lunch…"

"Really?" Ellie handed the joint back to Alex, "Wow, so you really are well on your way then…"

Alex grunted, realizing the thought was neither impressive nor welcoming. "I guess… We'll see. Early days…"

Ellie turned to look at her friend's solemn expression. The effects of the weed were quietly seeping into her brain, dulling the gnawing anxiety about her essay and bringing present actions to the forefront of her thoughts.

Alex's eyes were darting around distractedly, making her look uncomfortable. Ellie nudged her with her hip. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She took another heavy drag under Ellie's watchful gaze.

"You worried about it?"

"Nah," Alex responded, more out of reflex then anything else. But it was hard to keep up a front with Ellie's eyes focused on her, dark lashes fluttering innocently, words spoken earnestly. "Maybe a bit," she conceded.

"It'll be fine," Ellie assured.

"Yeah right," Alex laughed," Because I'm every parents' dream."

They both laughed at this. Partly because they were stoned. Partly because the idea of Alex being the epitome of perfectness for the parent of anyone's daughter was absurd.

"You are," Ellie said at last.

"Oh shut-up," Alex brushed of the comment with a smirk.

"Well, you should be," Ellie offered with sincerity.

The tone of her voice caused the dark haired girl to look at her friend. They rarely had moments to themselves like this. Moments where they were actually being serious. Alex wasn't used to getting compliments off people that weren't Paige.

"Thanks," the word came out almost shyly, a half-whisper.

"It's okay." Ellie replied, the smile back on her face.

"No, I mean- for everything. For putting up with Paige and… I know you guys don't exactly get on."

"It's no that," Ellie quickly interrupted, "It's not that we don't get on. It's just that…" the drugs had evidently drawn Ellie onto the brink of total uncensored honesty, "it's just we… don't really…like each other…"

Luckily, Alex found the disclosure surprisingly amusing, perhaps having known about it all along.

"Well, I know you don't exactly like Jesse either," Ellie offered in defence.

"It's not that I don't like him," Alex offered in reply, passing the joint once more as smoke billowed forth from her fractionally parted lips, "It's just… that he's a douche bag…"

This succeeded in sending the redhead into a brief giggling interlude, while Alex looked on bemused.

_I should insult her boyfriend more often._

"Seriously though," she put a hand against Ellie's back to steady her and the joint that was hanging precariously from her fingertips. "I just think… you could do a lot better than him."

The words were enough for Ellie to reign in her hilarity, causing Alex to swallow hard. Had she said too much? Were friends allowed to be _this_ honest?

Ellie seemed to pause, her response caught on the verge of her lips, indecision clouding her eyes, "Maybe… you could too?"

Alex sat upright at this, withdrawing her hand and shaking her head. "Nah. No way."

The two returned their gaze to the littered backyard, crows eagerly scavenging between the tall reeds.

"Paige is the one." Alex reaffirmed out loud, nodding to herself. "She's everything I could ever want, y'know?"

"Mm," Ellie offered an assuring smile as she leant her chin against her palm, passing the dying remains of the joint back. "Well, it's great that you've already found each other then."

"Yeah." Alex smoked down to the roach.

The two girls sat in silence once more.

The shadows grew longer, as a breeze swept in, rustling the trees and causing the birds to scatter.

Ellie distractedly brushed her auburn tresses from out of her face. "Alex?" she spoke hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think… no, actually, never mind."

"What?"

"Do you think… that Paige…" Ellie trailed off.

"Come on! Do I think Paige would what?"

"Do you think…maybe she'd, make us some of those cookies again tonight?"

Alex flicked away the roach, stood up and stretched, rubbing her arms against the increasing chill. She extended her hand down to Ellie, who used it to yank herself up from her perch.

Alex basked in the unreserved genius of the idea.

"I'm gonna call her right now."


End file.
